I realised I’ve lived most of my life either hitting the ground running. Or enduring insane neglect whilst not even being conscious I was. It’s as though that part of me, that desperately needed to be nurtured kept dying a thousand deaths. Yet I let it because my mind would divert me away, from my heart where the want was stored.

I kept getting flash backs today of my second child’s birth & and a doctor consultant who’s name I don’t recall. Yet his words echoed through my soul. It was one of the most loving things I saw & heard.

The following verse in the Quran about maryam/Mary mother of isa/Jesus, always held a special place in my heart.

“So she conceived him, and she withdrew with him to a remote place. And the pains of childbirth drove her to the trunk of a palm tree. She said, “Oh, I wish I had died before this and was in oblivion, forgotten.” (Quran 19:22-23)

Every time I read this I felt a pull from my soul that overwhelmed me with emotions I couldn’t tap into. It was trapped repressed emotions, I know now to be related to the trauma of my own birthing experience. That I wasn’t fully equipped to emotionally hold space for.

It was 4pm when I realised I was in labour and not dealing with braxton hicks. I think I have low tolerance towards internal physical pain, because contractions for me felt like death.

I was so scared when one was approaching and so so grateful my brother was there. To use initiative in a way that blocked, the brunt of the pain from reaching me.

As one approached he would place his hand on my lower back & with distinct circular motion, rub it till the pain subsided.

It was so cathartic for me, the only thing that worked. By 5pm my brother and his wife drove me to the hospital….I was happy they were there as my husband was abroad when I went into labour. Sad he couldn’t be there but being true to my motto of it is what it is. I hated seeing him grieve and refused to add to it or be a source of it.

That was me that person that holds it down not liking to see others suffer especially when a matter is out of their hands. He was abroad and got ill and all I wanted was to give birth and go back to take care of him. To nurse him back to his physical strength. Holding space for his dream to build me a home, mainly so he could carry hope that he could.

Upon arrival to hospital I wanted my brother and his (than fiancé) to stay with me. Staff put me through to an antenatal ward and said that I couldn’t have visitors there. I declared I was in labour and they said not yet. Confused by this I asked how do you determine that?

Apparently because my contractions weren’t mins or seconds close together I was considered to not be in active labour. I told them to read my file and look at my history. The text book rule didn’t apply to me as my body reacts to labour in strange ways. (I ended up with an emergency c-section with my first born. Because I was not considered to be in active labour and babies heart beat began to drop rapidly.)

They say history repeats itself but that adage should come with an admonition that it’s often worse.

The staff said they will check my file and move me to labour ward later. For for now I needed to go to the antenatal ward where visitors weren’t allowed.

Sad to see my brother and his wife go I was escorted alone to an empty bed near a window. My contractions were coming in every 6 mins at this point, and when one hit I would cry in fetal position feeling exposed and alone. I failed to rub my own back like my brother was.

I would miss my husbands calls, because I needed the minutes before the next contraction hit, to gather my strength.

No midwife came to check on me or offer pain relief. I felt abandoned and began to do what I was accustomed to. Go and fend for myself…

Made my way to hospital lobby and asked for pain relief. Reiterated vulnerably that I couldn’t handle the pain. I felt tortured, it was worse than my first experience and something didn’t feel right.

The midwife brushed me off with promises of someone will come see me soon.

So I began to explore the hospital as walking kept my mind active. Every few mins I would pause in the hall way, praying & firming out the contractions.

I stumbled across some room full of big bath tubs and hoped a warm bath would help.

It was a mistake, although water felt good when contractions hit I was seated in a way that didn’t help me protect my abomen and pelvis.

At this point I felt numb and in shock, sat there staring at the tiles. As contractions came and left, I no longer had the strength or will to try and protect myself. My body caved in.

Thats why that verse about Mary meant something to me. The bathtub was my palm tree. The repressed memory of this trauma was was calling out through verse so I can remember feel and release. I thought exactly what she did, ‘If only I were dead and forgotten’

40 mins later I felt my son kick and I remembered this baby is a survivor. He was telling me to hold on.

I remembered how I found out I was pregnant. The hardship and terror in event leading to it that is too surreal for me to share in this post. What mattered was that single kick helped me to remember inside me was a miracle I should fight for.

So I got myself out of the water with contractions now hitting 2 mins apart.

In complete agony I walked back to the ward. When I made it back to my bed, I saw bedsheets changed and entertained falling asleep. I couldn’t with the contractions as alarm clocks, who could…

The midwife came and decided to move me to labour ward. It was 5am when I got there I saw the woman in bed opposite me being hugged by her husband.

I pulled my curtain closed as tears fell from my eyes. What was strange was it was tears of & due to compassion not jealousy.

I saw the gas & air machine near another woman’s bed so called the midwife to ask for one. She said one will be bought shortly.

I waited and it didn’t come. I didn’t make a fuss as I was distracted by looking for my phone. It was missing and I desperately wanted to talk to my husband.

Was told it couldn’t be found, I don’t know what happened next, but my intuition said my phone was with the bedsheets that were removed from previous bed.

I told a midwife this and she didn’t really absorb it. So I got up and made my way back to previous ward. I saw 5 trolleys full of bedsheets and stood there staring, depressed at the thought that no one would check through this for me. I didn’t seem to matter.

If only I could make it easier for someone to give a damn. Suddenly my intuition came in and chose trolley number 3. When midwives saw me standing there I said “my phone is in that trolley, it got wrapped in the bed sheets I need it to call my husband please”

Passing my intuition as a fact seemed to work but it was divine mercy, that made a reluctant midwife reach inside the trolley and pull a random sheet. That happened to have my phone fall out from it.

The first real sheet she grabbed hold of was the right one. It was now morning and my family came to the hospital. Around 11am I was finally given gas & air. It did such a wonderful job I was angry it took so long to receive it. I only had it for an hour as I was now ready to give birth.

The most undignified yet beautiful experience in the world (I’ll save you from those details). I kept pushing but my son would get stuck in the birthing canal.

A few attempts and his heart beat began to drop. I was given the options of either forcep delivery or c-section. When I saw the harsh hands of the midwife, I was filled with mis trust. My intuition was flying with red flags and I became paranoid my baby would end up with brain damage as she yanked him out.

C-section was a risk for me not my child, forcep the opposite. So I chose c-section having had it before and it went ok.

With the contractions ripping through my body they rushed me to surgery. Put me on this uncomfortable tiny narrow slab they called a table. I was afraid of falling as my body couldn’t stop shaking.

They needed to put an epidural injection in my spine so c-section could commence. But I couldn’t stop the push urges the labour was naturally bringing on.

My body went into shock a second time and I began shaking profusely. Yet they still wanted to attempt the epidural? The shock rendered me silent and I prayed in my head for help. I wanted to speak but physically couldn’t.

That’s when the consultant walked in, the one who’s name I don’t know, but I will never EVER forget him or his voice.

He was the only one who SAW me, who read me energetically. One look and his professionalism went out the window. As true humanity took over from formality. With 5 frantic professionals huddled around me.

He said “What the fk? She is in DISTRESS! She is in shock, knock her out there is no time for an epidural“

That was the only moment I felt nurtured during that experience. He saw me and in doing so saw my needs.

When my body went into shock it was divine wisdom trying to give the other docs and midwives a clue. My mouth failed me in speaking due to the extruciating pain.

That taught me something vital about the language of the human body and the intelligence behind its creation. The only person who understood was that consultant.

I was put to sleep and woke up with a healthy. Beautiful baby boy. Saw my brother Zak holding him dressed and cleaned by my mum.

I asked “did you lot make sure a switch wasn’t made as I never saw what came out”

Every one laughed but I knew he was mine, when I saw my husband staring back at me. Having been awoke now for 6 mins I heard phone ringing and it was my husband.

He seemed frantic as phone was put on silent and he couldn’t get through for hours. “Habibti” he said with a relief filled tone, habibti means my beloved.

Followed by a “What happened to your phone!” Interrupted by my calm tone that showed him we are here now. “How are you how are you feeling?” He asked to which I replied “I went to hell and back but survived. Alhamdulilaah all is well, it’s a boy”

I will never forget his reaction I could see him in my minds eye smiling as he said “a boy? Mashallah” he quickly informed his mates that were around him “She had a boy!” I could feel his relief and pride that the storm was over and was just glad to share the news.

Knowing he named our first born and I had dibs on naming the second. In the most cutest negotiable way I’ve ever seen, he vulnerably said

“Name him abdirahman”

I wanted to make a case but I was more intrigued by his firm vulnerable energy. So instead I asked why that name and he said

“Because it’s meaning is in homage to gods name of the most merciful and with everything these past couple of months, I swear it nothing but his mercy got me through. I know what we agreed…”

I cut him off and replied “It’s ok Abdirahman it is” Intuitively something told me to accept lovingly. I’m so glad I did.

24 hours after our sons birth my husband passed away, having just entered his late 20s.

My heart broke, no one saw that coming. When I recieved the news I was still in the hospital healing from surgery. What was strange was minutes after hearing huge slumber came over me. I fell asleep and had a dream where I was running looking for him. Still dressed in my hospital gown with name tag on wrist.

When I finally found him he was seated in a chair. I called out his name and his eyes revealed to me how tranquil he felt to see me. He couldn’t speak so reached out his hand and pulled me close, seating me on his lap. There were tears in his eyes and my energy felt like home to him. So I hugged him to give him comfort. As soon as I rested on his shoulder I felt a shift in his body, his eyes began to close. While mine remained open suddenly looking up above. The dream faded out as I now saw us from above seated in that chair.

The miracles in this dream were many I’ve left out, but the most distinct for me that by passed my skepticism was the clothes he was wearing. I found out later it was the exact clothes he had on when he died hours earlier. I had no way of knowing that. His friends described the exact outfit I saw in my dream which showed me my inner knowing, that said his soul waited to say good bye was true.

I felt that’s why my reaction to the news of his death was to fall asleep. My soul was being called by his to come and say good bye.

That dream was my closure, meeting him on the astral plane was the ease in the hardship. Ever since that day I’ve been on a journey away from myself and now back to myself.

That baby boy I had not only looks like him as a reminder for me, every time he smiles. But his father is imprinted in him energetically.

Abdirahman has a healing touch, when ever I hold him I feel cleansed from the inside out. I’ve only noticed this consciously this year.

I wanted a sibling for his brother specifically a brother, because I hoped they could be friends riding life side by side when they are older.

And every day as I get to watch them grow. I watch extra hard for their father. Most reactions I give them, for most of what they do or don’t do, the first is mine…the second what I feel would have been his…

In transcending my internal beliefs that said strong people like me should just get on with things. I’ve realised the shadow side of this was a vengeful monster, that was deprived of my own love & nurture.

Going back to re visit the trauma behind all of this…. led me to acknowledg not only my desire to be embraced and be ok with wanting to be…. But also to not to fixate on the pain of neglect, I fear from it. In transmuting beliefs that told me I couldn’t trust others to nurture me….I know now that I can and they could…they should because I matter.

I use to hit the ground running, but now I want to find solace in simply standing on it, Recieving…

It is often said protect your space from negativity but I feel this can be too vague an instruction to actually yield real results for most; because it can be a struggle to even recognise what’s negative and what isn’t at times. We are human and have our own unconscious blocks so yes it can be difficult to pinpoint what’s negative in a moment for us in and of itself. Especially when there isn’t a solid or decent relationship with understanding our feelings.

Nothing annoyed me more than generic statements like “block out negativity” “protect yourself from negative people” “declutter your space” sure but what who and how?. I don’t resonate with statements that carry some frantic urge like energy. Like I need to run to or from something.

It’s easy to underestimate our power of definition and in so doing, we can relinquish this power to societal standards and norms that define things for us without being aware of how it does. The more awareness we gain about ourselves through what we feel, the more this power of definition becomes like a remote control in our hand that we naturally gravitate towards and explore.

For example I began to feel a lot of inner expansion and space when I defined….

Clearing up tumultuous misunderstandings expressed to me as negative but not in and of itself. I set this as a default rule because I felt it was easier to branch out this way. If it’s defined as negative for me, I then end up with a space where I can sit and discern through the exceptions I’ve made for this rule (I’ll address this more soon.)

Point is the alternative left me scattered and overwhelmed as it was too loose …I needed a structure that put me first and this rule that I can branch out from, provided that.

I first became aware of this strain that I felt when I found myself cleaning things up. It was confusing at first because I genuinely like to be of help and clarity is something I love. I love safeguarding it from loss, providing it when I have it and want it when I don’t.

When this awareness of the strain I felt slowly became more focused, I began to see it most notable in matters that pertained to one expecting or subjecting others to clean up their tumultuous misunderstandings. Whether one was aware they had one or not is irrelevant as pending task felt the same.

It’s negative because the misunderstandings would be presented by another without taking an active part in the clean up process themselves i.e they don’t hold space for it and if they do, it’s after a lot of stubborn resistance The kind you also end up ironing out of the way.

This happens when someone tells you something that doesn’t leave room for other perspectives. Clearly the perspective they have has holes in it and it’s detrimental to their own well being. Yet they want to defend it like their life depends on it.

Cue you entering to clear it up even worse, the person never even asked you too.

Whats wrong with this picture?

Aside from the selfishness that you at times assume or at times is true( because even though person didn’t ask you to clean up they want you to) its draining. If you are anything like me your tendency to genuinely prefer clarity to chaos makes you step in to iron out what seems off, from all that you’ve grasped essence wise from matter.

The problem with this ‘clear up’ is it depletes your energy, especially when you aren’t cognizant of the how’s and whys of its happening.

For the longest time I actually didn’t connect this nor did I even mind doing it (the clear ups I mean) But now with my soul running the show more and more every day. I have an emotional boundary that I’ve become very cognizant of. The kind that says…..unless I see YOU caring for a clear up, or YOU asked for one or at the very least YOU made it known through your vulnerability that YOU are open to perspectives that may carry one.

I will stare at you and ruthlessly leave you to your chosen path. This takes form in simple ways like a response of “madness….” to a rant made.

I couldn’t do that before, do what? Just witness In stead I would block my soul through my false selves guilt narrative and end up entangled. I couldn’t simply just leave person to it because I would feel for the other and conflate my needs when I did similar things, with the other persons. Even though a huge difference existed. I was that person who would present an energetic signal through my vulnerability…There was a part of me that therefore welcomed a clean up and I appreciated those equipped to provide it mainly because my issue came from a place of hurt. (If I’m just venting you’ll know)

I didn’t care for defence and detest people who view objections as defence in and of itself. (Note: why power of definition is important)

I define this clearing up of misunderstandings by default of seeing or feeling its existence as negative for me, when the one presenting it, in extreme cases wants to stand there absolved from responsibility to seek clarification and in normal cases leaves it vague enough I end up entangled..

It’s negative because it requires you to take on a problem that the other persons substance should have a handle on. But they don’t have the substance because at times they may be unconscious of the ego influence, that blinds them to this and in clearing it up for them willingly, you block the individual from seeing their own shadow? You block them from seeing how the ego keeps them in victim consciousness? Even if you point that out, you engaging in a clear up enables them to stay blocked??

The people vary in needs some do exactly what I’m describing, others don’t intend to but come across that way (so it’s you interpreting matter as is) regardless of the details of what form they appear in or not.

You either are being pulled into what doesn’t serve your highest good or you pull yourself in and resent the other who simply was just venting to you. In any case….

When you stay in your lane you actually help the other person because it exposes them to their own lane. That they refuse to even enter in the first place or aren’t aware is there for them to enter. Ultimately they are exposed to a lane where their substance could be obtained…. The rant dies down, they have exhausted the complaint. You’ve heard them and now a space becomes available where they choose one of two things

*Ask for clarity through feedback..

Or…

*Leave conversation scratching their own head.

Understanding what serves you and what is in accordance to your highest good. Means to allow the latter to occur and not internalise any discomfort that ensues as a result. Sometimes being authentic means making others uncomfortable. They ain’t uncomfortable with your authenticity but more so the audacity of it and you aren’t uncomfortable because of the other person but more so because you fragmented in moment because you aren’t being authentic.

We live in times where being authentic is…well bizarre. That’s why authenticity is moreso a practice as opposed to something you have or don’t have but I digress…

This cleaning up things that isn’t yours can occur in myriad of ways. It’s easy to fall into and it’s slow poison. That’s why I can only manage it by making it a rule not to….unless (insert the aforementioned exceptions to the rule)

To protect your space you must first cultivate awareness about what invades it. Step into your power of definition to then embrace it. When you don’t you fragment yourself and vital energy that you need to thrive ends up depleted and you are left on a hamster wheel mad at these situations where your energy gets used up. What’s worse you don’t even know at times why you are mad consciously. Without awareness your mind is left in the dark.

The above results in producing the feeling of anger. A feeling that comes to point out a boundary has been or is in the process of being violated by you or another. If you don’t get to benefit from this guidance and matter concludes itself as a boundary being broken or over stepped. Then your feelings don’t leave you hanging. Resentment follows suit loyally carrying guidance, to show you where you are giving your power away or not standing in it. Feelings guide and become your best friend when you begin to decipher what they mean…

Does not seeing resentment as a feeling that shows you where you are giving your power away or lacking to stand in it, make you look at the feeling differently? More importantly in a way that actually empowers you. As opposed to leaving you feeling powerless which is the default way we are prone to relate to resentment…

Whats astonishing is resentment transmuted becomes wisdom and when left to fester passes the buck back to anger through grudge lol rinse repeat.

Let your feelings direct you to what matters or behaviours that are negative for you. Others can give you pointers but no one can define this for you and it’s futile to ignore it just because (perhaps) the negativity is or was within you yourself at one point or another albeit in different ways or on different levels. Don’t ignore what can be used to develop awareness that can facilitate growth for you.

Ive never been team no negativity, I’m more team why does this negativity exist?

Protecting your personal space is one of the greatest personal investments you can make as it is the epitome of self care. I feel doing it from the inside out yields better more fruitful results

You can make boundaries through speech but those that arise through an energetic shift from within stick and speak for themselves.

Ultimately it provides you authentic space woven through substance. It’s authentic because you yourself are taught not to contaminate it. So it becomes a space that maintains catharsis that allows you to Jam uninhibited.

Jokes aside the above is an excerpt of the original poem written by the author Klaudio Marashi. I liked it not because I like to see someone suffer for a wrong they did but more so because of the remorse it shows.

It got me wondering about apologies and how what qualifies one as sincere varies from one person to another.

I realised the apologies that most touch my soul are those that…

A) contain accountability~ so when receiving the apology I can feel the other person understands what they’ve done wrong.

B) Shows honour for me~ so when receiving I can feel my value as (insert what I am to you) reflected back to me.

c) Invokes & invites a renewal of trust through unspoken vulnerability.~ so when receiving I can see something valuable you’ve put forward. This kind of unspoken vulnerability is felt energetically. One can simply stand there and apologise and I’ll know the above is there either in that moment or because of how things unfold. It’s vulnerable because the person has genuine intentions to do right & right their wrongs but their history taints. So though they wish they could earn your trust again, they entertain reason in any skepticism that exists as understandable.

D) Change ~ So when receiving I can be happy knowing what happened wasn’t in vain. Perhaps the one who hurt me grew as a result.

I have a gift in being able to grasp the essence in things and an apology where any of the above exist (the more the better) are the only apologies I feel worth allowing into my space.

That is because such apologies take courage and character to deliver. It’s never too late to apologise because such apologies carry the gift of healing for the one you hurt and for yourself.

I was able to discern this because I’ve accepted apologies in the past where those things that matter to me above weren’t felt or honoured by me, I wasn’t conscious of it not being. Sure things were said that can be put into categories A & B. But in essence I knew it didn’t satisfy me organically. It’s as though the person wasn’t ripe with it and in accepting the apology I kind of felt compelled to reward tangible effort.

Which Inadvertently taught me one of the greatest lessons I’ve learnt to date and that is accepting an apology, is a personal choice guilt or shame should have no say in. If it’s not in alignment don’t bulldoze your soul to conform.

Unconditional self love becomes fragmented when you step out side of your self to tend to presumed needs of another. That is because to embody unconditional self love you must acknowledge all of your needs.

Hence why holding space for yourself should take priority over you holding space for the one apologising. Their feelings are not your responsibility yours are, because their feelings are meant to guide them and yours are meant to guide you.

True Apologies are more than just sorry, they are a mark of a paradigm shift, an energetic re set, a change in vibration. It’s a mark of courage in the one giving it and also a mark of nobility for the one who accepts it.

I respect this space that cultivates courage and summons nobility in people. Deal with apologies according to your values.

The imperfect me wants to walk and speak free. Free from the shackles of shame imposed by the jungle laws that censored my heart and soul.

Can I start again, who but god can deny me that…..will I get it right this time, who but god can truly know that…

This world really isn’t worth a can I or will I. I just want to be in it as a tourist and a witness. Flowing in peace and meeting others along the way with it. I am not hopeless just spiritually homeless and that’s because I know it’s not home. The imperfect you can exist in an imperfect world. This is an important truth I didn’t have the luxury of knowing when it mattered most.

I’m pregnant with a future I don’t know, exiting a past I’ve out grown and living in the current through love & hope. The rest irrelevant…

Lately I feel like I’ve been in another world going with the flow. A lot of intense energies bringing about a lot of purges. They keep hitting like tsunami waves. Leaving as quickly as it came…..because ive not been fighting it. As soon as I see something coming up mid field I look within my heart and ask “what do you need?” listening lovingly to the answer it gives. There has been a lot of ‘sit down‘ & “rest for a moment”

I mean it doesn’t even matter to me that I have to sometimes consciously look for a place to sit. All I care about is my intent to honour what I need. So I need somewhere private, where in that moment I can just be at home with my emotions that’s fine not complicated anymore. However it wasn’t my norm, I mostly pretty much use to treat feelings like a virus. All I want to do now is to follow my heart and honour its every need. As cliche as that sounds…..When I sit down I find it healing because whatever I feel passes through like a cool breeze on a hot summer afternoon.

What this has done is freed up a lot of space within me. Space that resistance use to fill with false promise of safety or illusions of strength. Space that misunderstanding clogged up with restlessness and bulldozing of my own soul.

A lot of what I’ve been learning has centred around my needs it’s unbelievable.

~Awareness of my needs

~Acknowledging my needs

~Expressing my needs

and the hardest of all…

~Honouring my needs.

There is a lot up in the air awaiting results or conclusions where my affairs are concerned I kid you not. But despite all of that, internally all I feel 80% of the time is harmony.

The current energies maybe intense but it is ushering us into a new world. I feel that strongly because for the first time in my life I’m not afraid of the unknown. I’m on a plane of faith because only through divine grace…. in being taught what not to do, I’ve recieved the gift of knowing what to do.

Relief is contingent upon honouring your needs. Choosing to act through a base of love over fear. This choice requires that you follow a compass that points to meeting your needs before anything else.

I use to hear a lot how we are co creators of our reality. I believe that so deeply because in every moment we make a choice through either love or fear.

Choose love, you know it’s a choice through love when it leads you to inner peace. When you act through listening to felt perception over mental noise.

The current energies are intense because this is the very lesson it’s grounding into our being. How varies for each and every one of us. It’s not just about a new beginning it’s an emotional re set.

I don’t resonate with some of the paths I’ve walked down or the conversations that took place in them. It’s served what it came to serve and gifted me with new truths, values and ways of being. I’ve out grown the past because it’s fulfilled its duty to teach.

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Gem

Mother, Teacher, Free spirit
who writes about the invisible shackles she's discovered on her feet. Believes It's the space between the bars that hold the lion back & the gaps between our thoughts that make us who we are.
Geographically from London U.K
Originally hails from the horn.
Can be contacted at
zaragem123@gmail.com